Echoes
by CasaNovaBaby
Summary: Voldemort has been defeated. His followers disbanded. But as history has taught even the most inexperienced scholar, while one evil may fade, it leaves room for another to grow. Post-War, AU. Rated M for later chapters. And my first shot at one of these!


So, I suppose I have to put that I don't really own anything. But that would be pretty sweet. I'm also going to try something. I love how songs in movies can really help with the scene, so, I'm going to try and suggest a song! Either for its words, its melody, or even a single phrase. It may deal with the whole chapter, or just part. If you don't like the song, or know of another, please leave a suggestion! I'm always open to them. Anyways, hope you like the first attempt at one of these

Song- Lost in the moment by Daniel Lee Kendall? Eh, it's sounded cute.

With two solid smacks, the freshly fallen snow that had clumped into the tread of his old boots fell to the kitchen floor. Not bothering to bend over, he kicked at his heels till his cotton socked feet were free. The shotgun that had been slung over his shoulder now lay on the table; both of its foreboding barrels lay open. It was not a new firearm, one that had seen quite a bit of use from the scratches in its wooden stock. There were no ornaments, no etchings, and no designs. It was simple tool; it needed nothing but its scars to tell its story.

This was something the young man and the firearm had in common. Not a wooden part, because that would be ridiculous. It was the scars. He was a handsome man, given the fact that he had a split right ear and jagged scar etching its way down the back of his neck. Removing some spent shells from a left pocket showed that the little finger of the hand was missing from the mid joint up. Many others were scattered across his tone body, but there is always time to divulge these secrets a bit later. As for now, he had to begin his somewhat gruesome task.

In his right hand was a thin knife. With a skillful thrust, a small trickle of blood began to pour into the sink; most of the vital fluid had been left far away from the house. It was the work of the moment, and was done in a matter of moments. A voice coming from behind caused him to set the knife down.

"Vince… I really wish you would finish that outside…".She sounded sleepy, and her voice held a strange combination of disgust and playful whining.

"But 'Mione… you have any idea how cold it is out there?" He asked, in his American accent, as he finished washing his hands. Turning around, he was greeted to the sight of Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, wearing one of his button up sleeping shirts. "I could freeze off a pretty damn important piece of equipment. And where would that leave us?"

Hermione smiled as they put their arms loosely around each other. Kissing his scruffy check, she half laughed and motioned to the rabbits that Vince was finishing by the sink. "Good morning I see? What time did you leave? I didn't even feel you go!"

Vince smiled as he kissed her softly, and then turned back to his work. Hermione set about making them some eggs and sausage as he answered her. "Sorry love, I was pretty quiet. I left around four actually, so I've only been gone four hours or so. Spooked up a bunch just as the sun was coming up. Ah I'm sorry dear, I just didn't want to wake my Mione Mione!" He replied quickly at her stern look.

She laughed at the oddly dressed man before her. With his wool plaid coat off, he still wore a long sleeved camouflage sweat shirt and a red flannel "trappers" hat, both of the ear flaps still down. "Oh come off it you. Come on, I'm sure you're hungry again. Get that gun off of my table and take that ridiculous hat off."

Vince smiled as he pulled his seat close to hers. Yes, he was a same side sitter, and no, it did not worry him nor make him feel uncomfortable. After all, who was going to tell him otherwise? "So what do we have planned today sweetheart?"

"Well, we need to go to Diagon Alley and get some more groceries. Everyone is coming tonight you know! Could we save the rabbits for us though? With winter coming, I really don't feel like running as much. So, we're going to need some wine, and a bottle of firewhiskey, I suppose. How Marcus drinks that bile, I have no clue. And you stay away from it tonight! I don't feel like having to suffer through you two singing Can you dance like a Hippogriff again. So we have a busy day! You had best hurry up, we've got to get going."

Vince smiled as he set about finishing the rabbits as Hermione walked into the hall way she had come from. "Hermy, we have plenty of time! We have some of the wine that we made. Plus we have that ale I just bottled. What's the rush?"

He felt something soft hit him in the back of the head. As he turned around to see what she had thrown at him, he heard her call back. "Because I have other plans too! " Smiling, he picked up the pair of black panties and ran after her.

After and eventful morning and cleaning the kitchen, the happy couple found themselves cleaned up and standing before the fire place. Hermione wearing her gray sweater with her wavy brown hair held in place by a pair of red earmuffs. Her looks had not changed much since graduating Hogwarts four years ago, she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Still just as intelligent and though more mellow, held on to moments of uptightness.

Vince had not been able to hold onto such a youthful look. Though he was only three years older than Hermione, he didn't look it. A tired look creased under his stone gray eyes. His dark black hair, which at one point could have rivaled Harry's in terms of shagginess, was beginning to thin slightly. But that was where it stopped. His body was hard, tense you could even say. His eyes were quick, constantly surveying the environment around him, his wand never far from reach. Hermione knew he had done much during the war, especially at a young age, but he wouldn't speak of it. All the nights he held her as she sobbed, she couldn't get him to open up.

With two fistfuls of powder, a whoosh of green flames and whirling sound, the couple found themselves in a bustling Diagon Alley. It had been rebuilt, and with people's fears subsided, it was beginning to look its old splendor. Witches and wizards of all ages hurried about, some home for winter break, others doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Hermione bit her lip slightly as she watched the crowd.

"Let's say we split up for a bit, just so we can get most of this done quick?" she said. Pulling her wand from her purse, she tapped the list twice, causing it to split in two. Handing him half, she kissed his cheek. "Hurry up, I've got a few more ideas for when we get back."

"Haha! Oh yeah? Well I may say screw the party and just take you up on that."

Slapping him playfully, she smiled. "Just hurry up and come and find me when you're done. I'll meet you at Fred and George's, alright?" With another quick kiss, she was off.

Vince glanced at the list. Nutmeg, acorn squash, and a few other things that tasted of the season. Hermione had conspired with Ginny and Luna to have a sort of Pre-Christmas dinner, not wanting to steal any of Mrs. Weasley's thunder for her own yule time feast. Vince liked cooking, it was something that he and Hermione enjoyed doing together. While she would follow a recipe strictly, he would usually make changes and to use his own words "wing it". Looking at the list again, he decided what to get first. The wine. And there was only one place he would go for that.

Tucked into a corner store, a little past Flourish and Blott's, was a little rustic shop. Salto's, a place Vince had introduced to Hermione. An old bell hung from the door and announced his entrance as he pushed open the large slab of a door.

"Aaaah Mr. Mercado! Come in per favore! Come in!" From behind glass framed counter stood an old man, hunched with age with thick, grizzled hands. Most of his hair was now gone, and he wore a white collared shirt with green trousers held up by a pair of red suspenders. Before Vince could shake his hand, Mr. Salto produced his gnarly looking wall and tapped his shirt with the tip. In an instance, the printing of muggle Christmas lights snaked about the shirt, a proverbial rainbow of blinking color coming from the bulbs. "Ehhh? I knew you like. You just like a young me Vincenzo, you love Christmas! Now come, come. Claudia, look afta our friend, I need to help the people!" With a quick hop skip, the old man turned back to his twelve or so customers, some of which being very confused at exactly what was flashing about the old man's shirt.

A tall, aged woman smiled and took Vince's hand. For as round as Mr. Salto was, she was as slender. Hair that had once been a faint blonde had turned to radiant silver with age. She spoke with a heavy French accent. "Oh Vinze, it is so good to see you! You must forgive Silvio…zee old man likes to think he is back in zee old country sometimes! Where is that flowar of yours, 'Ermione? You are taking care of her, no?"

Vincenzo, for that was given name, kissed Claudia on the cheek as he took her hand. "Hello Mrs. Salto, it's good to see you too. Oh Hermione's around. We sort of split up the list, it's a busy day in the Alley today. Haha and yes, I am. Though I think she takes better care of me!"

Smiling, Claudia took the list from him. "She haz exceptional taste. Come now, let us get you what you need." Grabbing a wicker basket, she handed it to Vince. "You are not going to make an old woman old zee baszket, are you? Shame shame!"

Vince was in luck. In order to prepare for the holiday rush, the Salto's had stocked up with many things, which just happen to include most of his list. Squashes, pumpkins, thyme and the rest. With the essentials gathered, Mrs. Salto began showing him some new products. "Look 'ere, Silvio haz made vinegar with nettles. It taste like zee forest, here! You must get some! And some of this. It is my own creation. Fluer de sel with some rose petals. It is nice to put on for a finished seazoning. 'Ermione will love it!"

Leading him into a back part of the shop, Claudia left to take care of the customers, allowing Silvio to come and help Vince. The iridescent bulbs on his shirt blinked fiercely with his excitement. Wine seemed to have that effect on the old man.

"Now I gotta something right here you gonna like. No, two things. Both nicea dark, good for the winter. Look, tree ago, we go out and pick alotta damsons. You know, the plums? Make up a lot of dark sweet wine. Come now, try it. Try it." Mr. Salto said as he poured two large portions into wooden beakers. He was right, the flavors were so robust and dark, Vince had to sip it. Before he could compliment the wine, however, Silvio was on the move again. Hobbling up a ladder, he pulled out another bottle. Blowing dust from it, he handed it down to Vince. "This is the good one here. Five years ago, we go to visit my cousin Aldo and he give me abuncha grapes. I donknow what kind, don't ask. It's dry and red. You like, I know this, I know this." As he poured into the beakers again, Mr. Salto was back up the ladder. "Now these, thesea very special…"

Though Vince had his list completed in roughly twenty minutes, the Salto's kept him a further twenty more. By the time he had finished and bid them farewell, he not only had his produce, but two vials of the nettle vinegar, a stone dish of the rose salt, four bottles of the damson wine, three of Silvio's very special bottles of sparkling pale cider, three of his red wine and one of an old cherry port, something he and Hermione could save for later. Gently adjusting the canvas bag he usually used for such occasion as grocery shopping, he headed off towards Weasley's Wizard Weezes, a rare smile etching across his face.


End file.
